A Wedding on Primrose Street (Life In Icicle Falls Book 7) (16 page)

“Sweetie, you want to be sure,” Mom said.

“I am sure.” She loved the gown. She could see herself in it, walking through the woods to that raft on the river. This was what she wanted to be wearing in her wedding pictures.

“I still think we should look around a little more.”

“Until we find something
you
like. I thought this was my wedding.” Why was Mom being like this? She was spoiling everything.

“It is, but I don’t think that’s the best gown for you.”

“This is the gown I want.”

Mom sighed, and in that sigh was a world of disapproval.

“Oh, never mind.” Laney stormed off to the dressing room. Never mind the friggin’ gown. She’d get married in shorts (lowriders!) and a bikini top. Maybe she’d even get another tattoo before the wedding. A tramp stamp. Mom would love that.

Just as she was leaving, she met her mother coming into the changing area with still another gown. “Here’s one we missed,” Mom said. It had a sweetheart neckline...and a long-sleeved lace jacket to go with it. Yet another attempt to cover the hated tattoos.

“I don’t want to try it on,” Laney snapped. “I don’t want to try on any more wedding gowns. In fact, I don’t want to get married in a gown, after all,” she added.

“Oh, come on, Laney. Don’t be like that,” Mom said, following her out of the changing area.

“Like what?”

“Stubborn,” Mom said, irritated. “Just try this on.”

“No. I’m done.” Laney grabbed her purse. “Let’s go, you guys,” she said to her bridesmaids.

“Laney, quit acting like you’re twelve,” her mother scolded.

“I’ll quit acting like I’m twelve when you quit treating me like I’m twelve,” Laney called over her shoulder as she made her way to the door.

“Oh, boy,” Ella said.

“That went well,” added Autumn. “But hey, I don’t blame you. It’s your wedding.”

Somebody needed to explain that to Mom.

Chapter Sixteen

Anne, Mother in Crisis

“R
eally, Anne,” Julia said as they trooped back to Anne’s car. “What were you thinking?”

“What do you mean what was
I
thinking?” Anne countered. “I wasn’t the one who threw a fit in the bridal shop.”

“No, you were the one who caused it,” Julia said sternly.

“I certainly was not.” Anne unlocked the car and they got in, her mother riding shotgun in the front passenger seat. “Laney was being stubborn and uncooperative,” Anne said and shut her door with a bit more force than necessary.

“She found the gown she wanted,” Julia pointed out.

“Mom, do you want her parading down the aisle with that tattoo sleeve showing? Not to mention the one on her neck.” Although, actually, the one on Laney’s neck was kind of cute. Not that Anne would ever tell her.

“The sheer sleeve didn’t hide it anyway,” Kendra said from the backseat. “You’d need heavier material, and you’re not going to find that in any summer wedding collection.”

“We could look online,” Anne said. “Or...” Oh, she didn’t know. And right now that wasn’t the issue. Her daughter was mad at her. No, make that furious. Well, darn it all, she wasn’t exactly happy with Laney, either. This should’ve been fun, a memorable outing. It hadn’t been fun and it’d been memorable in the worst kind of way.

“I hate to say it, but the baby Momzilla is growing,” said Kendra.

“I am not a Momzilla!” Anne almost shouted.

“What on earth is a Momzilla?” Julia demanded.

“It’s what we call an out-of-control mother of the bride,” Kendra explained.

“Momzilla,” Julia said, trying out the word. She nodded. “Yes, Anne, I think you were a bit of a Momzilla today.”

“I was not! I didn’t tell my daughter what wedding gown to buy or refuse to pay for a gown I didn’t like.”

“Only because you’re not a full-grown Momzilla yet,” Kendra said.

“You may not have done that but you certainly balked at getting the dress your daughter picked out,” said Julia. “You might as well have told her you wouldn’t buy it.”

Anne frowned at her mother. “So, you want her to walk down the aisle with the mermaid in full view of everyone?”

“What does it matter?” Kendra argued. “It’ll be family and friends at the wedding, and they all know she’s got a sleeve. Heck, half the women at the wedding will have tattoos.”

“Call her and tell her to get the gown,” commanded her mother.

Anne scowled at the traffic in front of her crawling down Forty-Fifth. “I don’t see what’s wrong with going to another shop and seeing if there’s anything else.”

“Well, then, your eyes are closed,” Julia said shortly. “Laney loved the first gown, and none of the ones she tried on lit up her face like that one did. Your sister made a good point. Everyone coming to the wedding knows about Laney’s tattoo. They’ve all gotten used to it. So you may as well let her have the dress she wants.”

“Twenty years from now, when she looks back on her wedding pictures, what’s she going to think?” Anne asked.

“That she got to have the dress she wanted,” Kendra answered. “Come on, sis. Give it up.”

“Easy for you to say. You haven’t gone through this yet,” Anne grumbled.

“Well,
I
have,” said Julia. “And if you think I wanted to see my oldest daughter married in the courthouse, you can think again.”

“I
know
you didn’t want me getting married in the courthouse.”

“
You
didn’t even want you getting married in the courthouse. But you married the man you loved in the dress you picked out, and I was there to support you. It was your decision and I had to live with it. In the end, that’s all a mother can do. Unless, of course, she wants to become a Momzilla,” Julia added, obviously enjoying her new word.

“It’s a gorgeous dress,” put in Kendra, “and Laney looks beautiful in it.”

“She didn’t even try on the one with the jacket,” Anne muttered.

“If I get like this when my daughters get married, somebody shoot me,” Kendra said from the backseat.

“You will,” Anne predicted. Maybe it wouldn’t be over a gown, but it would be about...something. Suddenly she had empathy for the Laurel Brownes of the world. Being the mother of the bride wasn’t easy.

Both her mother’s and her sister’s final words to her when she dropped them off were to call Laney and tell her she could have the dress, which left her feeling self-righteous and misunderstood.

She drove home, her eyes stinging with tears. She hadn’t actually said not to buy the dress. All she’d wanted was for her daughter to be open to different options. How was that so bad?

Laurel Browne’s words haunted her.
“We never fight.”
But they had, and over something as inconsequential as goldfish.

When it came to mother-daughter disagreements, Anne had seen it all. She’d seen mothers and daughters get into it over everything from whom to include on the guest list to what flavor cake to serve. She’d always watched with smug tolerance, assuring herself that when they planned her daughter’s wedding, there’d be none of that. She and Laney were too close for such nonsense, and although they might not have had the same taste in fashion, they certainly shared the same taste in weddings. They always had.

Until now. Now it felt as if every choice was a challenge and every decision her daughter made a surprise. And not necessarily a pleasant one.

Okay, so Laney was her own woman now. And Anne had no problem with her daughter making her own decisions. This was her wedding, a once-in-a-lifetime event (well, theoretically), and she wanted only to make sure Laney got it right, that she had no regrets later. Was that so wrong?

She came home to find Cam grading papers. “How’d it go?” he asked.

“Not good,” she said and proceeded to give him a blow-by-blow account of what had happened.

“Not good,” he agreed. “What are you going to do about it?”

She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to implant a chip in her daughter’s brain so she’d make the best choices.

No, she was trying to make her a Stepford Bride. She was trying to make Laney not be Laney.

The realization was horrifying and humiliating. Laney loved her mermaid tat, considered it part of her artistic expression. If Anne was ashamed of that, wasn’t she also ashamed of her daughter?

She was proud of Laney, proud of how well she was doing, what a talented young woman she was. Did the tattoo matter so much? Obviously, it bugged her, but why? Because she thought people would judge her for her daughter’s extreme tattoo and consider her an inferior mother? And what did that say about her? She suddenly felt selfish and small. This was her daughter’s big day. It was about Laney, not Anne, and if Laney wanted a sleeveless dress, then she was going to get a sleeveless dress.

Anne called the dress shop and caught Glenda just as they were closing. “We’re going to take that sleeveless dress with the sweetheart neckline.”

“It is a lovely dress,” Glenda said encouragingly. “And your daughter will look beautiful in it.”

“Yes, she will.” Laney would look beautiful in anything.

“My daughter has a tattoo,” Glenda said. “She went sleeveless with her wedding gown, and you know, it looked fine.”

Anne sighed and gave the woman her charge-card information.

“Good decision.” Cam nodded in approval when she hung up.

“It
is
all about her,” Anne said as much to herself as him.

“Yes, it is.”

“I guess I’d better call and tell her she can pick up the dress.” Compromise. They all had to compromise. Hadn’t she told herself that a while back?

She called Laney’s cell but, big surprise, her daughter wasn’t picking up. She was probably off somewhere with a voodoo doll marked “Mom,” sticking pins in it. Hopefully, she’d listen to Anne’s voice mail message.

“Hi. It’s Mom. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve paid for the wedding gown you liked.” Loved. Laney had loved it, and every bride deserved to have the wedding gown of her dreams. “You can pick it up anytime. I’m sorry we quarreled, sweetie. I want you to be happy and have the wedding you want.” And there was still so much to do between now and the big day. She added a verbal PS. “Oh, and by the way, have you sent out the save-the-date announcements yet?” Okay, that sounded a little...critical. “If you haven’t, I’ll be glad to help you.”

“Interesting way to end an apology,” Cam observed as she ended the call.

“We have to stay on top of things.”

“Yeah, I see how well we’re staying on top of things for our anniversary.”

She decided to ignore that remark. They’d get to it eventually, when she wasn’t feeling completely wrung out. Planning a wedding had never been so stressful.

Of course, she’d created much of the stress herself. How tangled mothers’ and daughters’ lives got! She could still see her own mother’s face when she announced that she and Cam were getting married at the courthouse ASAP.

1990

Julia stared at Anne as if she’d just announced a death in the family. “You what?”

It was only the two of them, seated at the breakfast table with cups of coffee and banana bread left over from the day before. Anne gripped her mug tightly. “Cam and I are getting married next week at the courthouse,” she repeated, smiling insistently.

“Anne,” her mother protested, “that doesn’t make any sense. You wanted a church wedding and a big reception. You don’t even have a ring yet.”

As if she didn’t know. “We’re going to look at rings tomorrow.”

Julia shook her head. “I don’t understand. You two have been an item since high school. Why the rush all of a sudden?” And then a disapproving look took over her face. “Anne Marie Wellington, are you pregnant?”

Anne was still trying to compose her answer when her mother said, “You are,” in tones that were just as disapproving as her expression. “Oh, Anne, what were you thinking?”

That I love him.
Obviously, she hadn’t been thinking about getting pregnant. They should’ve waited until they were married to have sex. Too late now. Anyway, she wanted Cam’s baby, wanted to have something of him to love while he was so far away.

“How am I ever going to tell your father?”

Anne bit her lip. She had no idea, but she hoped it was when she wasn’t around. He’d be as disappointed in her as her mother was. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice.

Julia expelled her frustration in a long sigh. “We raised you better.” Now she was shaking her head. Okay, so they’d messed up, but her mom didn’t need to carry on as though she’d committed the crime of the century. Women who weren’t married got pregnant all the time. They even moved in with their boyfriends.

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I love him.”

This inspired another long sigh. “I know. Still, there’s still no need to rush like this.”

“Yes, there is. He’s shipping out in a few weeks. We want some time together before he goes. If he doesn’t come back...” Her throat tightened and she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“You’re going to regret this haste.” Her mother went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “All those dreams you had, those plans, all the times we talked about your wedding. All these years your father’s dreamed about walking you down the aisle.”

That was when Anne realized she wasn’t the only one who’d had to give up a dream. Her mother had been anticipating a wedding, too.

This was not how she’d planned to start her married life, but she couldn’t turn back the clock. Anyway, she’d meant what she said. She did want as much time as possible with Cam, wanted to give him some happy memories to take with him. Maybe things hadn’t turned out according to plan—the old plan—but they’d make the new plan work.

She said as much to her mother and Julia came around the yellow Formica kitchen table and hugged her. “You’re right. We love you, and we love Cam, too.”

“And what about the baby?” Anne asked.

“Of course. We’ll love the baby to pieces.” Her mother frowned again. “I just wish... Oh, never mind,” she said brusquely. “We’d better go shopping for a dress this afternoon.”

And so they got right down to the business of getting Anne ready for her courthouse wedding. Her mother said nothing more about her disappointment and helped her pick out a dress and bouquet. Her father hugged her and told her he’d be happy to give the bride away, and so they made the best of things. On her wedding day her parents hosted a family dinner featuring standing rib roast and baked potatoes. And that horrible cake the neighbor made.
At least it’s a wedding cake
, she thought.

Her parents gave Cam and her two entire place settings of fine china and a check for a hundred dollars. Other friends and neighbors, upon hearing the news, sent gifts, as well, but Anne’s courthouse wedding hung over the day like a black cloud. She’d disappointed her mother; there was no denying it. Still, if she had it to do over, she’d probably make the same choices. The bottom line was that she loved Cam and he loved her. And later that night, when they were in their motel room at Ocean Shores, wrapped in each other’s arms and listening to the crash of waves on the beach, she was able to sigh happily. Thank God, she thought, that even when life wasn’t perfect, when daughters weren’t perfect, there was usually a plan B.

* * *

In the end, weddings were about the bride and groom, Anne reminded herself now. Yes, she planned weddings for a living, but she had no business telling her daughter what gown to wear.

No more Momzilla, she vowed. From now on she’d back off—but there was nothing wrong with offering guidance.